Joan stared at the amber liquid in her cup, focusing on the music in the background. She couldn't make out what the lyrics were, just the beat that droned on and on. She was tired, utterly exhausted. There were so many cases and sleepless nights...and no time to herself. She hardly had time to drink water, let alone relax. She just needed time away from Baker Street and someone who wasn't related to any sort of crime to talk to. A bar seemed like a good place to try to find that, though she doubted it. People knew her and knew her face. They would probably want to ask and talk about Sherlock or the cases. Not anything else. It was exhausting, being the second part of someone's fame.
"Whiskey, hm? Good taste." A voice suddenly said, a woman appearing in Joan's side view. Long blonde hair, scar over her lips, elegant makeup, black lace shirt and jeans...she looked like the dream bad girl. Joan smiled a bit, shrugging in reply. The woman seemed nice, her thick accent rather charming to in comparison to the music. "This place doesn't have the best though. A bit cheap."
Joan raised a brow, chuckling a bit. "I came for cheap, I only wanted to get away from my roommate." She admitted, shrugging slightly. Part of her wanted to vent out everything to this stranger because she was a stranger. They would never meet again, this woman would never meet Sherlock. Joan would be the whiskey drinker who just complained. But she held herself back; Sherlock was her friend. It wouldn't be fair to complain about a friend, no matter how frustrating.
"Do does that mean you don't want company? Because if so, just say the word and I'll fuck off." The woman tilted her head, a darker blonde strand falling in front of her left eye. Joan noticed another scar next to her right eye, breaking her eyebrow. She seemed to notice the staring, chuckling. "Bad fights, not that interesting."
Joan averted her eyes, cheeks heating up. She was happy to have the company, despite her original desire to be alone. "My name's Joan. You?" She quietly said, hoping it wasn't unheard. Why she felt a connection to this woman was unknown. Maybe it was the allure of whatever sort of dangerous past the woman had, or because she wanted someone who wasn't connected to Sherlock to be friends with.
"Sienna, pleasure to meet you, Joan."
YOU ARE READING
Honeypie
Fanfiction(Femlock AU) If you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms If you like having secret little rendezvous Then baby I'm perfect Perfect for you.
